


reunited

by Adara_Rose



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Children of Earth Fix-It, Gen, Reunions, Reunited and It Feels So Good, Sequel, Surprise Ending, cause why the hell not
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-03
Updated: 2016-01-03
Packaged: 2018-05-11 11:23:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5624992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Adara_Rose/pseuds/Adara_Rose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ianto Jones is dead. And John Hart wants his master back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	reunited

it seemed as if the elevator was taking forever, but it slowly lowered him into the hub. It was like descending into a tomb, really. Not a sound was heard apart from the low humming from the cooling system. He supposed he was, at least in part, to blame. He had after all been vital in decimating about half the team. But he had only done what he had to do.

What his master had ordered him to do.

 

John Hart walked slowly through the Hub, scanning the area for any signs of life. Thankfully, it was completely empty at this moment, however he realised that he would have to work quickly to perform the last task his master had set before him. The very last task, then they would be together again, he would be made whole again. 

 

His limbs, once so foreign, now ached with familiarity. He felt old, nearly as old as he really was, and in rather desperate need of a tune-up. But more than that, he needed his master. Needed to fly, travel, run, be taken care off… he sighed deeply and opened the doors to the Med Bay.

 

He found the coffin easily; they were marked with names, after all. He pulled out the one he was after and opened it. The face was heart-wrenchingly familiar, and so was the body, and at the same time they were both devastatingly strange. Human. That wasn’t right. He pulled a small object from his pocket and put it in the dead man’s hand.

 

“Hey eye-candy” he murmured, nearly choking on the old nickname. He remembered all the times it had been met with a blank stare followed by a scowl. His core throbbed with excitement at the ordeal of separation nearly being over. He opened the stopwatch and turned his face away.

 

* * *

 

The man known as Ianto Jones sat up with a hoarse gasp, choking and spluttering. John turned back to look at him, unable to keep from smiling.

“Careful, Caretaker” he warned, “You’re only running on one heart.” the Caretaker groaned and rubbed his chest.

“How do humans work like this?” he complained.

“You tell me, you’ve been one for twenty-two years.” John snarked.

“Yeah, yeah. The timeline?”

“On track.”

“The people of importance?”

“In place.”

“Good. Time for us to go.” John made a noise of pure relief, and the Caretaker turned to look at him. His stern face softened and he placed a hand to John’s cheek.

“My poor TARDIS” he murmured gently. “It was cruel of me to trap you in this form.” John nodded, pressing into the caress.

“Please-” his voice was as close to pleading as he got, “I want to go back to what I am supposed to be.”

“And you will” the Caretaker soothed, “but we need to go back to my flat first.” 

 

* * *

 

They went back to the flat that had belonged to the man named Ianto Jones in silence. John tried his best not to scowl at the uppity piece of metal that called itself a car. It was barely more than scrap compared to him, even like this. He barely had ten percent of his computing abilities and he could still run circles around every last piece of machinery on this backwater planet.

“Stop glaring at the car” the Caretaker admonished gently. “It serves a purpose.”

“Uppity jerk” he muttered, sulking in the passenger seat. The Caretaker patted his knee consolingly. 

“There, there. It’s almost over.”

 

They entered the flat silently, not needing to speak or even look at each other. You don’t need to when you’ve seen the things they had, done the things they had.  the Caretaker walked over to the bedroom closet and turned to him.

“Key?” he asked, and John fished a small key from his pocket. It was the one item he never left anywhere; the one thing he’d had through the years to remind him of who he was when he felt like he was losing himself. He handed it over and nearly sobbed with relief as  the Caretaker put it in it’s slot, turning it slowly. It felt like… like being hit with a supernova. Suddenly he was coming online, firing on synapses he’d forgotten, booting systems he’d not used since he was Locked. the Caretaker gave him an indulgent smile as he stepped inside. John followed, humming with the power that had at last returned to him. With a quick thought he returned his avatar to storage and sank deep into himself, finding and reconnecting with every room, every item, every cable, every program. He was back, he was himself again. John was sleeping until the next time the shell was needed. TARDIS was ready to rumble.

The Caretaker stroked his console in a way that made him purr with satisfaction and pleasure.

“Set the coordinates” he said gently, running his fingers over buttons and levers.

TARDIS shivered in response.

“Where to?” he breathed, already gearing up.

“Anywhere.”

And he did.   
  


**Author's Note:**

> I just might add to this. Sometime. Maybe.


End file.
